In my line of work, most men expect me to achieve orgasm with them. They feel that it's part of what they paid for. Let me try giving them a biology lesson. Let me try explaining that like most women, it is extremely difficult if not nearly impossible for me to achieve orgasm. Suddenly I'm the most boring, incompetent whore on the planet.

It's even more personal than that, though. The full reason I can't climax with strangers is nobody's business. But here's a part I don't mind telling: I don't enjoy it.

That's another thing my clients seem to feel entitled to: my pleasure. My genuine, honest-to-God pleasure. If I let on that I don't enjoy the act, sometimes I don't get paid or get paid less. Admitting that I'm faking the pleasure is treated as an insult.

I'm WORKING. This is my JOB. Last I checked, most people dislike their jobs, sometimes for the simple fact that it is a job. Why take it personally? My job is to give you an imitation of the real deal. The sex, the kissing, the cuddling; these things are always faked and forced for me unless I'm passionate about the person I'm doing it with. And sometimes even then. As long as I play my part, why pry into my secret thoughts and feelings?

Sometimes I only offer services that don't involve penetration. Like oral or toilet play. Then I'll be offered more money if I agree to sex. I'd turn down the money because for whatever reason, I just don't want to have sex.

I've literally lost count of how many men have said, "But all you have to do is lie there."

No. That's not all. While lying there, I am exposing and compromising myself. I am feeling the burn and the stretch. The pummeling of my cervix. The sheer humiliation of queefing in front of a stranger. The risk of pregnancy or illness no matter how we protect ourselves. The act is physically and emotionally painful and exhausting, no matter what position I'm in.

I use to think of prostitution as just another simple form of physical labor. I'm sure that for some people that's true. Personally though, I feel I am selling a hell of aa lot more than just my time and attention. Most of these men do not respect me, and that matters to me.

I'm not cut out for this. Need to stop.

It gives me no choice but to rely on myself. It turns out I'm the most reliable person I know.

Thank you for being such a horrible friend. In your absence, I had to find a friend within myself. And she's way better than you.

Thank you for being everything I hope I never end up being. Now I know for a FACT, from watching you, that that's not the road I want to go down. Ever.

Just thank you for being a failure, a screw-up, a bitch, a traitor, and everything else that finally made me drop you like the dead weight you are. I thought I was crazy. No. I'm just sick. YOU'RE the one who's crazy. You make the choice to be miserable and bitter. You make the CHOICE. You self-diagnose and act out your "illnesses" like someone picking out and putting on an outfit because you are a stupid ass.

And seriously, if someone who didn't treat me like dirt possessed the same qualities, behaviors and beliefs as you, I wouldn't be saying or thinking any of this about them. It's just that you treated me like dirt. And now I'm angry and I'm going to judge you. But if there were an exact duplicate of you out there whose only difference is that she didn't abuse my friendship, I wouldn't have all this nastiness to throw at them.

Look what you've turned me into.

Thank you for showing me that there is a hateful monster inside of me that I need to kill.